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That’s when I knew I’d made the right decision. Whatever was up with this gas station, he didn’t want to be here. That was enough for me. “Yeah, definitely. I think this restaurant has cookies to go too, so I’ll get one of those. I might just split it with you,” I added with a smirk, hoping he’d return it.
And he did. With a slight smile, Harry wasted no time in putting the car into reverse, pulling back onto the main road. The palpable relief still remained, though, even as he reached for my hand again. As he pressed his lips against my knuckles, he murmured, “Sounds perfect to me.”
* * *
“I can’t believe your parents are out of town on a Friday night and you’renotthrowing a party.” Margot sighed dramatically, propping her sketchbook on my bed. She wore loose pants today, her long-sleeve shirt clinging to her body. It was rare to see her outside of a suit or school clothes—rarer still to see her inloungewear. “Or have at least a few friends over.”
“Who would I invite?” I demanded, knocking my head against the headboard. “Grace Conan?”
Margot’s theatrics subsided for a moment, enough for her to frown. “Yeah, maybe not.”
The house had felt so quiet in the absence of my parents, their constant white noise of a presence gone. They went out of town for the weekend and wouldn’t be home until tomorrow night. Tonight would be the first time in a long time I could stay up late andstill use my cell phone.
I could already imagine texting with Harry until the wee hours of the morning. Since I was babysitting the twins, attending the gig at Crushed Beanz wasn’t an option, but maybe Harry could convince Addy to video chat so I could see them perform.
“How’s it coming with Project College?” Margot asked, taking my thoughts far away from the place they wanted to be. “Did you tell your parents where you want to go?”
And just like that, my mood plummeted. “Mom has her ideas.”
“Herideas. You need to learn how to tell them no,” she decided, and then lay down so her back was flat against my mattress, legs hanging off the king-sized edge. One of the longer strands of her hair fell into her eyes, and she batted it away. “Say, ‘Screw your plan for my life; I’m going to make my own.’”
Dear God, the mere idea of saying that to my parents made me nearly break out into a sweat. “And then they’d probably cut me off.”
“Who cares? You know I’ll always be your sugar mama.”
I rolled onto my stomach, combing my fingers through the little wisps of her hair. She made a face at the touch, but didn’t pull away. “I skipped a volunteering session Mom signed me up for. To hang out with Harry. For karaoke, of all things.”
“Sounds like you’re off on the right foot,” Margot said appreciatively. “You at least said ‘screw you’ tothatplan she had for you.”
“But then I showed up at the volunteering for Pastor Liam, so it’s not like I’m kicking a whole new lifestyle.” I watched as her silky strands sifted through my fingers, the action calming something inside me. It feltgoodditching volunteering. I had to admit, it felt good to do something because I wanted to do it,whenI wanted to do it. But I didn’t tell Margot that—I was too afraid she’d use it to add fuel to her fire. “I don’t know why I’m so afraid of telling them no.”
“Girl, you have a lawyer and a judge for your parents. I’d be telling them what they wanted to hear too.” Margot angled her chin so she looked directly into my eyes, holding my attention. “But it’syourlife. You can’t live under them forever. And if you do, what happens when you’re forty and they’re telling you what to do? Still making you go to events, still picking out your clothes for you. Still making you turn off your phone at nine o’clock.”
“My parents aren’t like yours,” I said with a sigh. “Your parents are way more lenient. Mine act like we’re in the courtroom, like, all the time.”
“And you let them.”
I leaned my head on one hand, peering at her with an uncomfortable feeling stirring within me. “What should I do? On graduation day, just haul all my stuff out and move across the country?”
“I’ll hire the movers for you.”
Even though her words sounded flippant, I knew she meant them. We’d been friends for only a year, and when she made friendships, she dedicated herself to them. I trusted her more than anyone in the entire world because instead of offering polite smiles, Margot was honest. Almost to a fault. She wouldn’t use flowery words and compliments—she was real.
“You know, we never really talked about Harry,” I murmured, that unease still turning in my stomach. “What’d you think of him?”
“I think hedefinitelydoesn’t look like someone you’d be interested in. I didn’t really strike you as a tattoo-loving gal.”
“I’m not a tattoo-hating gal.” His tattoo was a bit in-your-face, but I liked it. It made him feelgenuine, not like the men at the country club who put on a mask to look their best. “Besides, it suits him.”
“It does,” she said, thinking about it. “I’ll have to get to know him. He seems nice, but I’m not passing full judgment until I talk to him more. I, unlike all the other stuck-up sissies in our social circles, don’t judge books by their covers.”
A laugh pulled from me. “You’ll like him, I promise. He’s funny—I swear, he makes me laugh like no one has before. And it sounds dorky, but when I’m with him, I feel like…anything’s possible.”
Margot puffed out her bottom lip. “My little girl’s got a big crush.”
“It’s a normal sized crush, thank you very much.”
On the bed between us, my phone rang. Before I had a chance to grab at it, Margot snatched it up, jostling the mattress underneath us. “Oh my gosh, you have a heart next to his name?” she cooed, that slightly mocking expression deepening. “So sweet.”
